Felix Turnbull

"Beastly affair up at the Ministry today, simply beastly. Having to dispose of Spavin like that ... of course, the man brought it on himself. Bribery, blackmail, murder, and kidnapping." He shook his head, a careful expression of disdain and disapproval on his face. He did not even have to fake it; he wholeheartedly disapproved of Faris Spavin being enough of an idiot to let himself get caught. — Escaping Fate

Although in possession of a fairly nasty personality, Felix was an expert at the political and social games. He tirelessly advanced himself and his family throughout his life, but a combination of bitterness at the fact that his corpse was ignored for hours after his death and a desire to be remembered caused him to choose to stay behind as a ghosts ... a particularly nasty ghost that no longer sees any reason to even curb his prejudicial views, much less hide them.

"You are not old enough to remember your father," Felix pointed out, looking down his nose at the girl magnanimously. "You are better off without him; all children are better off fatherless than being raised by men who will simply lead them into lives of crime. You should thank the Wizengamot for taking that foul influence out of your life." — Just a Simple Kind of Day

Felix Maxmillian Turnbull was born exactly one minute after midnight on the first day of 1788, and his life was one of rigid precision. He went to school at exactly the expected time, was Sorted into Slytherin without hesitation, and went briskly through his school years playing beater and being a prefect and then Head Boy.

After graduation, Felix went into the Ministry. When he managed to get himself attached to the Wizengamot, he decided it was time to marry and briskly found himself an attractive bride. His first wife gave him four children and died while miscarrying a fifth; his second wife gave him an additional two girls. Shortly before Felix became Chief Warlock, his second wife died; he celebrated finally getting where he wanted to be by searching (after a proper year's mourning) for a third wife.

He found Gromlaith, a beautiful young woman who possessed exactly what he needed in a wife. He was certain that, since he raised her from the "poverty" of her middle class life she would be utterly loyal to him. With his new trophy to show off at Ministry events, Felix went back to collecting powerful friends and influencing all the right people. When Hogsmead was established in 1877, he and his young wife were two of the earliest inhabitants.

In life Felix was well-respected, with his eldest daughter marrying into the Lestrange family and only one of his children (Ashley, his middle son) proving to be a disappointment. He held blood-purist and classist views to begin with, and in truth was prejudiced on just about any other subject that came up; however, he was very good at saying things in a way that either sounded completely rational or which hid his prejudiced nature. His Ministry career, which he was very dedicated to, was very successful and culminated with him in the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot.

He cut off mid sentence, suddenly unable to breathe properly. His chest felt tight and hot as a cold sweat overcame him. Then his eyes rolled back in his head and he collapsed on his fellow lift rider, dead. — For the worst

Felix passed away on September 8, 1881 when he had a heart attack in the elevator in the Ministry offices. Mr. Roderick Elkins was present at the time (and had been being verbally assaulted for being the product of incest at the time) and left the lift without bothering to do more than remove traces of himself from the elevator. The next person to use that elevator was Sarah Marlowe (then Miss Trelawney), who fainted; at least one other human and a goblin passed through the lift before Sarah revived and reported the death several hours after it occured.

Felix was furious. Not that fury was an abnormal state for Felix's death, but today was his death day and no one had remembered. He had been dead a year today, and no one cared! — A Very Merry Deathday

After his death and the disrespectful manner in which his corpse was treated, Mr. Turnbull chose to remain as a ghost. His main haunt is the very elevator where he died, and he no longer glosses over any of his thoughts or feelings on matters of blood, class, species, and the like. He is openly (and frequently viciously) prejudiced as well as being demanding and possessive of the lift. He has gone so far as to make demands of the Minister himself and verbally assaulted him when those demands were not met (Disgrace). In general he makes life very unpleasant for almost anyone who has the bad luck to use his particular elevator.